


See you tomorrow?

by Deiv17



Series: Political fanfics [1]
Category: Political RPF, Political RPF - Canadian 21st c., Political RPF - France 21st c.
Genre: Hotel, Love, M/M, Macdeau, Macreau, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-08 03:36:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11073246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deiv17/pseuds/Deiv17
Summary: What they feel is so spontaneous after their first they saw each other during the G7 meeting.





	See you tomorrow?

**Author's Note:**

> A big, big thank you to Jackdaws! :)

For such a young person, the prime minister of Canada radiated conviction and maturity as he laughed along with the other presidents at the G7’s first day dinner. Emmanuel was looking at him, and he felt amazed. The Frenchman smiled at the sight, just stretching out the corners of his lips. He then picked up a knife firmly before cutting his chicken cordon bleu in pieces and stuffing his mouth with it, never looking away from the young Canadian at the other side of the table. Although the conversation was directed to all of the presidents sitting at the table, Macron, who should have been paying more attention as the newly-elected president of the French Republic, was focused entirely on someone specific. All of his interest was wrapped around Justin, as the Canadian himself had demanded in a humorous tone to be called when they talked that morning. The smile grew bigger and lopsided as the Frenchman remembered their interaction during the day. The tall man was even more handsome than Macron had thought. He had made Macron restless, wanting to catch his attention just as Angela Merkel was doing at that precise moment. However, Macron couldn’t lose his sanity. He had to remain formal, quiet, mysterious and discreet as he always was when he was interested in someone. That’s how he behaved when he wished for someone to come to him of their own free will.

Their eyes suddenly met. Emmanuel’s smile widened, never revealing his teeth; he just raised one corner of his mouth seductively. That movement made Trudeau visibly nervous, putting an end to his laughter and the smile on his own lips. It seemed as though it all went unseen by everyone else, but in that sumptuous, well-lit and elegant little golden room aired out by big spring windows, the only one who appeared to notice Trudeau’s quivering was Macron. And he knew perfectly how to round it off. The seconds between their eye contact and the realisation of the sensations it caused on his Canadian counterpart seemed like hours, but in the end, like he always did, he just winked at him. The taller man’s eyes opened widely, but they soon came back to their normal size. The shock on his face lasted momentarily, and it didn’t take much to see him turn around towards the other heads of state with a less confident smile. He could barely look into Macron’s eyes now. The French president looked down at his food and smiled broadly, victorious, as he cut another piece of his cordon bleu before stuffing his mouth with it, so he now had an excuse to use a handkerchief to wipe his lips. Although he actually used it to hide his huge smile, the one that exploded due to the Canadian’s reaction.

He truly hoped the journalists hadn’t caught them having this secret gestural conversation, the wink, nor the evident and expressive face of the Canadian prime minister. However, he could tell he had made great progress tonight.

-

Justin slammed the door of his hotel room shut. He got rid of his thick blazer, left it on a chair near the dresser and slumped down on the bed, sucking in a deep breath. He placed an arm over his eyes as he closed them for a few seconds just to get some rest. He didn’t want to sleep just yet: first, he had to prepare himself, even though he didn’t want to get up again from the embracing mattress that molded so perfectly to his thin shape. He started unbuttoning his white shirt after loosening his tie. However, a knock at his hotel room door made him groan softly. He took a deep breath and made an effort to stand up from his comfortable bed. He sighed as he walked sleepily to the door after having rebuttoned his shirt. He was prepared to display some happiness on his face, even though it felt like such an effort. But as he slid the door open, a shiver travelled down his spine.

Emmanuel had his back against the frame of the door, a flirty smile on his lips –flirty at least from Justin’s point of view. The French president had taken off his blazer and hung it on his arms, which were crossed over his chest. Justin thought it was a delightful, enticing view, and hard to look away from. He just hoped Macron didn’t realise what he was feeling in those few seconds.

“ _Bonne nuit_ , Justin,” he greeted his Canadian counterpart with his deep raspy voice, making Trudeau shiver again. The taller man swallowed hard and, as he was torn away from his thoughts, he reacted quickly in response, placing both of his hands on his own hips.

“ _Salut_ ,” he smiled and switched his weight from one foot to the other, not knowing really how to act. “What’s wrong?”

Macron’s smile grew larger. For a second, Justin believed he caught a glimpse of the way Emmanuel’s blue-green eyes looked up and down lasciviously over his body, before biting his lips in an unsubtle way.

“Can I come in?” Macron asked.

“Of course, sure!” Justin answered in a slightly high-pitched voice as he moved aside to let Emmanuel in.

The French president got into the hotel room with small silent steps before hearing the door close behind him. He stopped when he reached the bed and turned back to face Trudeau.

“Ahm… I just wanted your advice about something.”

Somehow, deep in the back of his mind, he couldn’t avoid feeling disappointed. A distant voice in his head pleaded for more contact with his counterpart, but he decided to ignore it. He was tired. They had been talking about politics all day, trying to strike up beneficial relations for Canada, and what he longed for most was to rest. That Emmanuel wanted his opinion about anything only meant the conversation would be a long and deep one. Justin couldn’t deny him, though. He had to be kind to his counterpart. That’s why he sat on the bed with a smile on his face, and palmed the space beside him, gesturing for Macron to sit next to him.

“Sure, tell me.”

Emmanuel seemed reluctant to talk, as if he were nervous. Justin frowned. Why should he be? He was the most confident person he’d met. But the thoughts slowly slipped away from his mind as he saw him lick his lips and take a deep breath.

“It’s just…” Macron started, looking away from him, “I’m really… tired. I’m exhausted and it’s only been one day…”

He stopped. Justin was taking in the words without looking away. Emmanuel had no trace of the confident attitude from dinner, or from when Justin saw him leaning against the frame of his hotel room door. Emmanuel had let the walls down, had something more inside him that he couldn’t figure out, so he just relaxed, letting out a snort.

“No one said it’d be an easy job, you know?” He whispered his answer. “No one tells you that when you run for the presidency.” Macron turned around to face him, and Trudeau stumbled over his next words. “Y-You have a who-ole country on your shoulders, a-and these meetings are just something that must become routine.”

Macron didn’t look away for several minutes. The closeness between them couldn’t stop the nervousness that made his heart race whenever he was next to the French president, next to his dominating, happy and convincing attitude. His confidence had gone as soon as Justin had opened the door. He felt ridiculous trying to flirt with him without having something prepared. His French counterpart just nodded as he licked his lips.

“I think you’re right…”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, okay?” Justin advised him, placing a comforting hand on his back. “I get tired myself all the time, even if I’ve been doing this for quite some time. Right here, right now, I am.

“Oh!” Emmanuel opened his eyes widely before getting up. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“No, no,” Justin answered. He got up and stood a few inches from his French counterpart, “It doesn’t matter, really.”

Emmanuel had come here to try something, he reminded himself as he looked into Trudeau’s eyes. Anything that came up would be nice. However, it was one thing to think about the situation and another to implement it. Now he was standing in front of Justin, the proximity between them was trivial. His nerves had betrayed him. He didn’t know what he was actually doing here, asking about something that didn’t really matter to him. He just needed to be close to the taller man, and he didn’t want to leave. But he had nothing else to say. After some uncomfortable seconds, not looking apart from each other and letting the tension grow thicker, both of them felt the same way, without having the other man know. Macron sent everything to hell, closed the few inches left between them and pushed himself up on his tiptoes before finally connecting his lips to Trudeau’s.

At first Justin was a little surprised. He’d never conceived that Emmanuel would have the guts to do it, just as he doubted himself. That’s why at first he didn’t kiss him back. But then he reacted. The Frenchman moved his lips slowly, waiting for the Canadian prime minister to do the same. His heart pounded against his chest, and his stomach was a bundle of nerves. It felt amazing. Like satisfaction. Justin fluttered his eyes shut and started moving his lips to the rhythm of the Frenchman’s, slowly, patiently, and at the same time, fearful of what this new impression was provoking. Both breathed in and out unsteadily. Macron placed his arms fearfully on Trudeau’s hips before wrapping them completely around him, in order to push Justin closer. Justin jumped up at that, but he didn’t mind, and so he did the same with Emmanuel’s neck. The two of them knew this wasn’t right; a voice in a remote place in the back of their minds whispered that this would seriously affect their public and personal images should anyone ever found out. But their bodies and heads screamed with excitement, with happiness, and right then they didn’t care at all what might happen to them as long as they felt this way forever. Even though the air was against them, because they soon had to break apart in order to breathe and calm their fast-beating hearts.

After separating, they didn’t look in each other’s eyes. Macron was very ashamed, very nervous and didn’t seem at all like the man Justin had seen at dinner. They both knew it. And even though Justin could only see the profile of his face, he couldn’t avoid feeling confused. There was indeed something they didn’t know: what was next? Justin was very happy Macron had taken the reins of the awkward situation that followed the kiss. Nevertheless, the words that left his lips weren’t the ones he expected.

“I’d better let you get some rest, yeah?”

Justin swallowed hard, and just nodded his head. He had no idea of what to do, or how to proceed. If Emmanuel wanted that, well, he’d allow him, then. Maybe now wasn’t the best moment for them to talk about this, but they knew they should talk about it eventually.

The Frenchman walked towards the door behind the Canadian prime minister, who opened it for him to leave. However, Justin felt that he should not let him go just like that, without saying anything. It’d be too awkward afterwards and, honestly, he wanted this to happen again. He felt helpless as he saw Macron leave, biting the inside of his cheek as he tried to think of something, anything to say.

When Emmanuel stepped out, Justin finally spoke.

“See you tomorrow?”

Macron was shocked, but he smiled broadly and turned around to reply, happy to hear Justin say something at last.

“Of course. Every night.”


End file.
